


Do No Harm

by CottonCandyWhump



Category: The Resident (TV 2018)
Genre: AJ Austin - Freeform, Bleeding, Blood Loss, Collapsing, Conrad Hawkins - Freeform, Devon Pravesh - Freeform, Drabbles, F/M, Fever, Gen, Irvin Feldman, Migraine, Mina Okafor - Freeform, Nic Nevin - Freeform, Nicolette Nevin - Freeform, Passing Out, Randolph Bell - Freeform, Stabbing, Vomit, Whump, headache, oneshots, sick, sick conrad hawkins, sickfics, stabbed, the resident - Freeform, throwing up
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-06
Updated: 2019-05-29
Packaged: 2020-02-27 08:09:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 3,872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18735046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CottonCandyWhump/pseuds/CottonCandyWhump
Summary: Just a bunch of oneshots and drabbles. Most of them will be whump or sickfics. Maybe some angst. There might be some that are unfinished and I have no intention to finish them.





	1. Surprise

“You should be fine, it’s just a routine surgery,” Devon tells the lady before looking to the man beside him.

“Doctor Hawkins, anything to add?” Devon asks, watching the doctor pale considerably.

“Yeah… Um… I’m so sorry,” Conrad says, his legs giving out and causing him to fall to the ground, unconscious.

Devon watches for a second in shock before the lady’s screaming snaps him out of it.

“Ma’am, everything is just fine. Please calm down,” Devon tells her, trying to concentrate on the problem at hand.

“Somebody get me a gurney!” He yells into the hallway. Two of the nurses come immediately, followed by one of the doctors.

“What happened?” One of the nurses asks.

“I don’t know! He just collapsed out of nowhere!” Devon tells her as the other nurse works on calming the lady down.

“Hey. He’s going to be ok,” the doctor, Devon recognizes her as Doctor Bickford, places a hand on his shoulder. Devon just nods and hopes she’s right.


	2. Orders

When he found Conrad in the on call room, lying on the floor and struggling to breathe, Devon knew it was bad. He rushed over to the other doctor and kneeled down by his side to check his lungs.

“Don’t… Don’t tell Nic!” Conrad chokes out, starting to turn slightly blue.

“You’re not in any position to be giving orders,” Devon tells him, subtly paging Nic. 

Conrad attempts to say something else but can’t seem to get enough air in. Out of the corner of his eye, Devon sees Nic and a couple other nurses rolling a gurney in. Knowing that Conrad was in good hands, Devon steps to the side, letting Nic at him.


	3. Asleep

Nic quietly opened the door to the on call room and flicked on the light, illuminating the doctor asleep on the top bunk. 

Conrad looked so calm and relaxed when he was asleep. His face wasn’t tightened with worry for one of his patients, it was just blank and peaceful. He looked like he could be lying on the beach instead of the crappy hospital beds. 

She watched for a few more seconds as his chest rose and fell before grinning wickedly. She walked over to where he was sleeping, leaned up and-

“FIRE! FIRE!” she screams in his ear, laughing as Conrad bolts up right and looks around, alarmed.

“Very funny,” he grumbles, sitting up.

“Sorry. Your shift starts in half an hour,” Nic tells him, giving him a peck on the cheek before heading out, leaving him to get ready.


	4. Shake

“We need to do an MRI just to be sure. Do you have any metal anywhere in your body? Maybe from surgery?” Conrad asks the patient, raising a trembling hand to stifle a yawn.

“Not that I know of,” the patient tells him.

“Perfect,” Conrad says, moving to leave and head to the on all room for some much needed rest before the MRI, when the patient's voice stops him.

“What’s wrong with you hands?” she asks him. Conrad shoves his shaking hands in his pockets before answering. 

“Nothing,” he answers and leaves the room.


	5. Stab

“38 year old male. He’s on multiple drugs, probably going through withdrawal,” the paramedics explain as they struggle to restrain the screaming and thrashing man on the gurney.

“What’s his name?” Conrad asks, coming close but staying away from the flailing limbs.

“Riley Jenkins,” one of the paramedics answers.

“Hey, Riley. My name is Dr. Conrad Hawkins. You’re at Chastain. We’re going to take care of you but you need to calm down and let us help you,” Conrad says, taking the man's hands in his. The man nods and Conrad turns to go. As soon as the doctors back is turned, the man reaches into his pocket and pulls out a kitchen knife. 

“Oh my god! He has a knife!” Yells one of the other patient. 

Conrad turns around to see who they’re talking about when he feels a burning pain in his stomach. He looks down to see the knife buried up to the handle in his stomach. His vision starts to cloud from the pain when the man yanks the knife out and stabs him again. The man gets pulled away by security and Conrad falls to his knees, unable to stand up anymore. He presses his hand to his stomach in an effort to stop the bleeding. One of the other doctors comes over and grabs his hands in an effort to stop him from hurting himself further. Conrad fights to get his hands out of the vice like grip and turns his hands over to see them stained with scarlet. 

“Oh,” he breathes before he runs out of whatever energy was keeping him awake. His head hits the floor before he can hear the orders to stay awake.


	6. Mess

“What happened to you?” Irving asks as Conrad walks through the hospital doors looking like a hot mess.

“Nothing. I’m fine,” Conrad responds, heading into the locker room. 

“Yeah, you look it,” Irving says sarcastically, taking in his messy hair and the dark circles under his eyes.

“I didn’t get a lot of sleep last night,” Conrad explains, swapping out his crumpled t shirt for some scrubs.

“You look like a racoon, man,” Irving tells him. 

“Thank you. You do wonders for my confidence,” Conrad says before heading out to the ER, leaving Irving standing there.

“Someone's cranky,” Irving mutters before heading back to the ER.


	7. Nightmares

“Are you still reading? Conrad, you have a shift in two hours. At least try and get some sleep!” Nic tells him, taking a seat beside her boyfriend on the bed.

“I’m not tired,” he says, his claim invalidated as he lets out a big yawn.

“And I’m the president of the united states. Come on, talk to me. Why won’t you sleep?” Nic asks, putting her hand on his back and rubbing small circles, hoping to lull him to sleep.

“I’m not talking about this now,” Conrad tells her, moving to pick up his book again. Nic quickly snatches the book away from him.

“If you go to sleep right now, we’ll talk about this another day. Deal?” Nic offers, well aware she’s talking to him like a child and hoping he’s too tired to realize.

“Fine,” he huffs, sprawling out on the bed, not bothering to lift the covers.

“Good. Now go to sleep. I’ll wake you up in a bit,” she says, planting a kiss on his forehead.

~~~

As soon as his eyes shut and his breathing evens out, Conrad finds himself back in Afghanistan, surrounded by sand and gunfire. 

“Hawkins! Get over here!” His officer shouts, carrying one of his injured comrades. Conrad quickly rushes over and helps lay the man out on one of the tarps. As soon as the man is on the ground, his commanding officer sprints back into battle, leaving Conrad to deal with the man in front of him.

“Broken leg, shrapnel in his chest, probable concussion,” Conrad mutters to himself, trying to block out the sound of gunfire so he can concentrate on helping his friend. He ignores the gunfire until he hears one shot from much closer than the others. His head snaps up but before he can call out or say anything, somebody puts their hand over his mouth and he can feel the cold barrel of a gun pressed against the side of his head. He hears the shot before he feels it. When he feels it, agony is the only word to describe the sensation. He’s screaming. Screaming out in pain. In agony. But it doesn’t stop. He can still feel the bullet, making its way through his head in the most painful way possible. He can still feel the sand, burning his face. He can still hear the echoes of gunfire and he can still feel the realization that this is it. This is the end.

~~~

“Conrad! Wake up! Conrad! Ow! Shit! Wake up!” 

Conrad snaps awake, panting and shaking and drenched in sweat. Turning his head, he sees Devon kneeling beside him with a black eye and blood running from his nose.

“Hey, you awake?” Devon asks, warily.

“Yeah. I’m really sorry,” he says, putting his face in his hands.

“Hey. It’s not your fault. Now, I’m not going to make you tell me about it but you should talk to someone,” Devon tells him, putting a hand on his friends shoulder.

“What time is it?” Conrad asks, changing the subject.

“It’s almost ten. You should get ready. I’m going to clean up and get some ice, meet me in the ER,” Devon tells him before leaving the room. 

Conrad sits on the bed for a few minutes before getting up and putting his scrubs on. No matter what was going on with him, he still had patients to help.


	8. Awake

“Doctor Hawkins, I have to ask. Are we boring you?” 

Conrad snaps awake and he falls off his chair when he hears his name called. He looks around the room slowly, taking in the huge conference table and the people staring at him. Looking up, he sees the new CEO, Christian Young standing over him, looking annoyed.

“What?” He asks, his brain failing him.

“Are. We. Boring. You?” Young repeats slowly, as if talking to a kindergartener.

“What? Where-,” Conrad says, cutting himself off.

“Sit up straight, pay attention and don’t let me catch you dozing again!” Young snaps before returning to the front of the room. 

Conrad tries to focus but his eyes keep dropping from exhausting, not sleeping for fifty two hours taking a toll on him. Eventually his exhaustion wins and he falls asleep, snoring lightly. 

Christian looks around the room for a second before his eyes fall on Conrad, fast asleep. Growling in annoyance, he stalks over and grabs the sleeping doctor by the arm, yanking his up. What he wasn’t expecting was for the doctor to lash out, sending Young into the wall and nearly hitting one of the potential investors. 

Conrad opens his eyes, startled and takes in the scene in front of him. He sees Young slumped against the wall, staring at him in shock and the rest of the room looking at him in various degrees of shock, awe and fear. Conrad stalks out of the room, letting the door close loudly behind him and heads towards the on call room for some much needed sleep.


	9. Pain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was part of a fic exchange with @WhumperWriter on tumblr.

“Who are you? I don't know you!” The teenager screams, running past the front desk and through the ER doors with Conrad running after her, trying to calm her down.

“Alisha! Wait! I’ll explain everything, but you need to stop running!” Conrad calls, struggling to keep up with the olympic silver medalist. 

He runs through the ER doors, a few steps behind her when an ambulance pulls in. He tries to stop, he really does, but he’s not fast enough and the ambulance collides with his side, sending him to the ground. 

Conrad lies on the ground with his arms wrapped around his chest before he forces himself to get up. He puts an arm against the ambulance for balance as the pain threatens to send him back down to the concrete and as soon as he’s up, he takes after Alisha again, ignoring the pain to the best of his abilities.

He stops after a bit when he sees her standing in the middle of the garden, completely still. Trying his luck, Conrad takes a few steps towards her, hissing as the movement makes his ribs flare. 

“Alisha?” He calls out, holding his breath as she stiffens, praying she won’t run again.

“Alisha, my name is Conrad Hawkins. I’m your doctor. You were brought to Chastain after you collapsed at a race,” he tells her, relaxing slightly when she doesn’t immediately bolt and instead turns towards him.

“Dr. Hawkins? Why don’t I remember you? Why can’t I remember anything?” She asks, tears threatening to fall.

“Let’s sit down and we can chat. I’ll do my best to explain, ok?” He offers, taking a seat on the bench. Alisha takes a seat beside him, shivering in the cool November air.

“Are you cold?” Conrad asks, taking off his sweater and offering it to her. She nods and accepts the sweater, hesitantly.

“Why did I collapse? Why can’t I remember anything?” She asks him again.

“We’re not one hundred percent sure but we’re doing tests so we can find out and hopefully get you back to the racetrack. If you come back inside, we can finish the tests and figure out what’s wrong,” Conrad tells her, sucking in a breath as the pain in his ribs flares again.

“Okay…” she agrees, standing up.

Conrad moves to follow her, pushing the pain to the back of his mind and promising himself to have Devon check him out.

“You’re pretty fast, you know,” He tells Alisha as they walk back to the ER.

“Sorry,” she says, looking down and flushing.

“Hey, don’t worry about it. That’s my exercise for the day,” Conrad says, glad to see a small smile appear on her face.

They reach the doors of the ER and walk in. 

“I have to take care of something but this is Dr. Hash. He’ll take good care of you, ok?” Conrad tells Alisha and Dr. Hash takes her back to her room. 

With nothing else to focus on, the pain comes back to the front of his mind and the force of it almost drives him to his knees. He’s breathing hard, practically panting, trying to stay awake. He doesn’t even notice Devon is there until he laughs.

“Tired out already? You should hit the gym more,” Devon jokes, patting his back. That’s it. Conrad’s knees give out and send him crashing to the ground from the pain. The only thing he hears before passing out is Devon calling his name.

~~~

The first thing he notices when he wakes up is the ugly white ceiling with the horrible bright lights. Conrad groans and raises a hand to block his eyes.

“You’re awake. Good. Now I can yell at you for being an idiot,” he hears someone tell him and he turns his head to see Nic looking pissed.

“I’m sorry?” He offers, trying to sit up.

“Nonono! Lie back down, right now! Do you know how incredibly stupid you are?!? We saw the security footage! You got hit by an ambulance! An ambulance! And you don’t see it fit to tell somebody?!? You literally work at a hospital! Practically anyone could have looked you over!” She scolds him.

“I was going to page Devon,” he argues, immediately realizing that it’s the wrong choice.

“Conrad, you could have been seriously hurt. Your rib almost punctured your lung. You have to be more careful!” Nic tells him, the anger fading into concern. 

“I know and I’m sorry,” he says.

“Good. Now rest up. You can leave tomorrow,” she orders. Comrad looks like he’s going to argue but one look from Nic reminds him that it would be unwise.


	10. Dizzy

“That may be the worst idea you’ve ever had,” Nic tells Conrad as they walk down the hall to oncology.

Conrad chuckled in response before he’s hit with a wave of dizziness and closes his eyes, swaying lightly.

“You ok?” Nic asks, putting a hand on his head to check for a fever.

“Fine. I’m just going to sit down for a quick second,” he tells her, sliding down the wall and putting his head between his knees.

“Alright, take a minute. Casey can wait,” Nic tells him, sitting down beside her boyfriend and putting a hand on his shoulder.


	11. Necessary

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is a bit longer and originally started out as a prompt fill but I kinda got carried away... I really loved the scene where Conrad gives blood and he’s a bit unsteady on his feet and so this happened and there’s no link between the two whatsoever.

“What do you mean we’re out of blood?!? How can we be out of blood?!?” Conrad yells, pacing back and forth in an effort to keep calm.

“It happens sometimes. We’ll have some blood from Atlanta General in a few hours,” the nurse tells him.

“She doesn’t have a few hours, Kayla! She needs the blood now!” Conrad argues, running his hands through his hair as he paces.

“There’s nothing we can do,” the nurse says and starts to walk off.

“Wait! I’m O neg. Could you take my blood?” He asks.

“We would still have to test it for-,” she starts but is interrupted.

“I’m clean. I’m a frequent donor,” Conrad tells her, already rolling up his sleeve and grabbing a needle.

“Fine. At least let me do it,” She says, grabbing the needle and bag from him. He sucks in a breathe as she starts filling the bag. She fills the first one and starts on the second one. She looks up halfway through and notices Conrad’s pale skin.

“You said you’re a frequent donor. When was the last time you donated?” She asks.

“Last night after my shift,” he tells her.

“What?!? You can’t give blood now! Are you insane?!? Jesus Christ, boy!” She yells at him, taking the needle out and putting the mostly filled bag down.

“I feel fine,” he tells her even as his eyes flutter closed and his head lolls.

“Drink this,” she orders, handing him a Gatorade. He doesn’t react and she sighs. She holds the bottle up to his mouth and taps him on the side of the head.

“Drink.”

He drinks about a third of the bottle before he stops and turns his head, spraying blue Gatorade everywhere. 

“I’m dizzy,” he complains, blue Gatorade dripping from his hair.

“This is why you tell people if you have just given blood. Doctors, I swear. You’re all stubborn asses,” she accuses, grabbing a cookie from the package beside her.

“Eat this,” she orders, putting the cookie in his hand.

“Why?” He asks, frowning at it.

“Because I said so!” She tells him.

“I feel dizzy,” he says with a grimace.

“That’s because you don’t have enough blood in your body. Now, eat the goddamn cookie before I force feed you.”

Conrad looks up at her and then down at the cookie before his eyes roll into the back of his head and he passes out, falling sideways off the chair. Kayla runs to catch him before his head hits the floor and just barely makes it.

“Doctors, I swear,” she scowls even as she pages Pravesh. As she waits for the other doctor to arrive, she lies Conrad down on the floor so he’s not slumped halfway off the chair. As soon as she puts a cold cloth on his forehead, Pravesh bursts in.

“You paged me?”

“Hawkins is an idiot,” she says and Pravesh sighs and walks over, kneeling beside his friend.

“Yeah. What did he do this time?”

“He tried donating blood,” she tells him and at his raised eyebrows, elaborates, “He donated blood just last night.”

“Oh my god,” Devon says, shaking his head.

“I can get the blood back in him,” she offers but Devon bites him lip but shakes his head.

“He’ll be fine. There’s a little girl who needs it more.”

~~~

“Did you get it?” The girls mother asks when Kayla and Devon walk into the room.

“There was a shortage of blood at Chastain. Thankfully, your doctor is a reckless idiot so we have what we need,” Kayla says, smiling as the little girl looks up at her mom, grinning.

“Where’s Conrad? Is he ok?” The mother asks, worry clouding her features.

“He’s perfectly fine, Ms. Goodwin. Just recovering from giving blood,” Devon explains.

“You mean that’s his?” She asks, motioning to the bags of blood.

“Yes. I’m sure he’ll explain everything when you see him,” Devon reassures her.

Devon’s phone rings and he excuses himself to answer it.

“Dr. Pravesh.”

“That is such a Harvard way to answer your phone,” Conrad’s weak voice crackles through, still a little loopy from blood loss.

“You finally awake?” 

“Obviously. How’s Lia?” He asks.

“She’s great. We got her the blood in time. She wants to see you so come by when you’re up to it,” Devon tells him.

“I’m on my way,” Conrad says before hanging up.

“I didn’t mean now, you idiot!” Devon snaps but sighs when he sees the resident stumbling down the hall, clutching the wall for support and ignoring the stares of the other doctors.

Devon heads to meet him part way and loops one of Conrad’s arms over his shoulder.

“I’m fine,” Conrad protests, pushing at him weakly.

“Bullshit,” Devon declares, supporting Comrad as he stumbles into the room. 

“Conrad!” The woman exclaims, standing up and giving her chair to him. Devon deposits the doctor in the recently vacated chair and ignores the disgruntled glare sent his way.

“Hey Ms. Goodwin,” Conrad says with a wave.

“More than twenty years have passed and you’re still a sefless idiot,” Ms. Goodwin says with a grin, “But you saved my daughters life. Thank you.”

Conrad hises as she wraps her arms around him, pressing on the huge bruise on his side from falling off the chair.

“Sorry, sorry!” She says, backing off.

“It’s fine,” Conrad tells her, subtly wrapping an arm around his body.

Ms. Goodwin is about to say something else when Conrad and Devon’s pagers go off. 

“Looks like we have to go. The patients need us. Talk tp you later Ms. Goodwin,” Conrad says, standing up. He would have fallen right back over if Devon hadn’t put an arm around his shoulders to help him stay upright. 

“You aren’t treating anyone when you’re like this. Nice try though,” Devon tells him, wrapping an arm around the uncoordinated doctor.

“You suck,” Conrad pouts, waving to Ms. Goodwin as they leave.

“Twenty years, huh? How do you know her?” Devon asks, ignoring his colleagues childish insult.

“She was my high school science teacher,” Conrad says as they stumble down the hall. 

“Huh.”


	12. Okay

Conrad squeezes his eyes shut as his raging headache spikes, resulting in a moment of intense nausea before it fades, leaving him with just the pain. Against his will, a pathetic sounding whimper slips out before he could stop it and the patient he was explaining the treatment to (Don’t ask what treatment, that’s beyond him at the moment) starts to sit up.

“Dr. Hawkins? Are you ok?” She asks, putting a hand on his arm.

“Yeah, fine,” he says before his headache spikes again and he barely has time to turn around before he’s retching, vomit splattering down his front and pooling around him.

“Oh shit. Ok,” the patients curses, pressing the call button frantically.

Devon and Irving run into the room and Devon immediately rushes to Conrad’s side with an emesis bin. 

“Here we go. Come on, Conrad,” Devon says, leading him out of the room while Irving apologizes to the motherly patient.

“Sorry,” Conrad chokes out before he has to bury his face in the bin again.

“Hey, it’s fine. Here, let’s sit you down,” Devon says,helping Conrad sit down in an empty wheelchair.

Conrad groans as another spike of pain goes through his head.

“Hey, it’s ok,” Devon says putting a hand on his friends shoulder. “I’ll talk to Bell. See if I can get you the day off.”

Conrad just nods, not trusting himself to open his mouth.

“Good. See, it’s all going to be ok.”


End file.
